Heart Ache
by Cristalskylights
Summary: When harry handed himself over to Voldemort he doubted he would be walking out. But he dose, coming out with just another scar. 1 yr later harry gets his Hogwarts letter welcoming him and many other misfortunate students who were bidden because of the war. But how will harry react when the scar on his chest starts to act up? And what happens when a certain blond notices? !DRARRY!
1. A Misfortunate Cough

**A/N; this is a redo of my original Heart Ache, which was abandoned. _I want to say a grand thank you to my BETA READER !_** ** _dragonheart971_** ** _! with out them this fanfiction would be a tale of bad grammar._**

 ** _DISCLAIMER; anything you recall as J.K Rowlings is hers. including all characters that will be in this fanfiction. ;D_**

Heart ach

" _Life asked Death, 'why do people hate you but love me?' in which Death replied, 'because you are a beautiful lie and I am the painful truth'"_

Chapter one; A Misfortunate Cough

 _Shadows hung from the trees like bats, growing together in desperate huddles and towering far above Harry. The moon light shone through the tight gapes in the trees, spreading cold light on Harry, much like his disease loved one following behind him. But the comfort of Harry's mother and father's spirits did not reach Harry in this dream. Only terror reaches Harry's heart, gripping it like a Dementors hug. As a clearing came to sight Harry seized his last breath reacting to take off his cloak. But there was no need for everything was gone, a black pit of nothing but him and- Voldemort. But only it wasn't Voldemort. In his place was a boy the same age as Harry._

 _He couldn't move, Harry was mobilized, but Tom Riddle wasn't, he was approaching Harry like a feline, red eyes flashing dangerously and luscious lips twisting into an ugly grin._

 _"Harry…" the boy purred, "my friend."_

 _Harrys stomach twisted, images of the Horcruxes he destroyed, the terrors of every sick and twisted object he was forced to carry and the knowledge that he once carried the wretched thing in his head._

 _"So very much alike!" Riddle now stalked around him, like a vulture circling its dying pry. "You can be great! You have the power! You posses the knowledge to fly to greatness! You have the soul to become feared and respected, to have nations bow down to your feet, too have every minister kiss the ground you walk!"_

 _Riddle eyes gleamed manically, an insane light shining through his charm. "But you deny it. You throw away your power like scum! You care not of the greatness you are destined to grasp!" Riddle suddenly hissed, going cold like Arctic winds. "You bowed your head at those disgusting muggles, letting them spit at your face and shame your honourable name! You are unworthy of the power you carry, and I shall take it away from you, no matter what I must do, I will rip out your vary soul if I must. I will take your life, licking it away from you slowly." Harry felt Riddle wrap his arms around his shoulders, almost in a friendly way if only not for the wand stationed upon Harry's chest. "Don't worry Harry, I will end your miserable existence, I will put your magic to rest…" Tom Riddle chided gently, "I will… make you suffer." It was like a whisper in the breeze, until words of hate and broken sanity where spoken, "Aveda Kedavra!"_

His eyes flew open, electric green striking his vision. His airway was cut off with a sudden and sharp pain. Harry choked; hands flying to his neck as he sat up, in a rush of panic, Harry threw up the contents blocking his breathing. He cried out again when phantom needles pierced his heart, his mouth was once again filled with a coppery dark liquid.

He spat it out horrifying realization falling upon him. Warm, sticky and thick, red with a copper taste.

Harry flung his blood covered sheets off him. Scrambling off his bed and tumbling to the floor harry ran to his washroom. Kneeling to the toilet like religion, he heaved more blood into its bowl, husky coughs ripping through his throat.

When the violent coughs drew to an end harry rose on his shaking legs groaning when his tense muscles where forced into slavery. He stopped short on his way into his bedroom, looking miserably at his bloodied blankets.

Deciding to deal with it now harry grabbed his wand from beneath his pillow. Drawing an elegant 'S' in the air, he whispered, " _Scourgify!"_

The blood vanished instantly, much to Harry's relief, though he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep in them, knowing all to well the sticky magic feel that would reside in them. Instead he sat on the edge of his bed, racing over what had just accrued, and also neglecting his dirty shirt.

Could this relate to the aching scar that married his chest? They one Voldemort had so _graciously_ given him in the forest? The second lightning bolt scar he had?

Harry hadn't told a soul of what truly happen in the forest during the battle of Hogwarts, but he'd never forget it. Though Voldemort was gone for good, he'd be a part of harry for the rest of his life. To the Wizengamot the Wizarding world was safe; to harry nothing was ever going to be safe. If it wasn't the Death Eaters trying to track him down, it was the Daily Prophet trying to get something out of him, weather it was information on his personal life or the war. He never truly got a break, and now this? He wished Hermione was here.

But then again, what could Hermione do? Research of course, but they had done that in fifth year at Hogwarts, researching its vast library on old curse scars and battle wounds. Though like most thing harry was different. Of course there wouldn't be any books on a scar such as Harrys; he was after all the only one to have survived the killing curses green clutches.

Harry lay back with a frustrated sigh, mindlessly scratching his arm at the itchy feel the Scouring Charm left. Harry drifted off for a few hours of restless sleep, the terrors of past events still lingering in his mind.

* * *

Harry woke hours latter to a soft knock on his door, groaning in response, he scratch his itchy back, groaning again when he remembered last night and his 'misfortunate cough'.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"I'm up! I'm up!" he cried. He cursed under his breath, peeling off his shirt, which was incrusted in blood. Knowing he wouldn't be getting that type of stain out he banished it.

"Breakfast is ready cub!" he heard Remus call from the other side, "Come down once you're ready."

Harry felt a great rush of gratitude. After the war harry was a mess, not knowing how to deal with everything he saw during the war, and not knowing what to do with the sudden release in stress. He was free from Voldemort! But he wasn't free from his past. So Remus had swooped him up in his loving fatherly arms and took him in, bearing the weights of the past war with harry. He had constantly been there for harry. Weather it was during night meres or when the depression started to creep up again, Remus was there to get him through it. And for that he owed his life to Remus. Taking a quick shower to clean him of last night's fit then getting ready in fresh clothes, he didn't even bother dealing with his hair, harry made his way down stirs to Remus' cozy dining room.

Harry breathed in the beautiful aroma of an English breakfast upon arriving in the dining room.

"Are you going to stand there all day breathing like a dog, or are you going to sit down?" a voice teased playfully.

Harry threw a mock glare his way but sat down, giving his thanks to Remus, who waved it off like a nuisance.

"How was your sleep?" Remus asked newspaper in hand while starting on his pouched eggs.

 _Talk about multitasking,_ harry thought. Snorting he replied casually, "fare, why'd you ask?"

Remus' eyes flicker up from his newspaper but he didn't put it down, instead he shrugged and said, "Just caught a swift of something that smelt awfully like blood. Mustn't a have been anything though." He paused, looking harry in the eyes, "Right…?"

"Just a random nose bleed." Harry shrugged, he didn't want to trouble Remus any more then he already was.

"hmm." Remus raised a doubtful eyebrow, but stayed silent. Harry new he'd be on to him for a few nights.

They continued their breakfast in normal silence.

* * *

Later that day the Golden Trio met up in Diagon Ally, at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor to be exact. The Golden Trio had grown stronger than ever after the war; there wasn't a week that went by where the three friends didn't all get together.

Hermione had taken her passion of knowledge and rights to the ministry and was currently making progress in clearing up werewolf rubbish. But changing people's views on werewolves had shown to be difficult with the war so fresh, and trying to show werewolves as human beings was a trick ambition with what grey back had down to so many. But that also worked with her favour, cause now other people where understanding and supporting werewolves giving them jobs and letting them help recreate the Wizarding community. Hell, even Remus had a job! Better yet he actually owned his very own book shop. The werewolf rights were more than they had ever been in years.

Ron, who much like harry, had decide he never wanted to fight again, therefor forgetting his O.W.L.s he'd gotten to become an Auror. Instead he was trying to get voluntary work at the hospital St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. This had proven not to be hard at all. With long lasting injuries from the war patients were still coming in like mad, whether it was from mental health or the need of a magical chiropractor. Ron had gotten a job as an assistant within a week. Though he only ran around helping patients and getting things for healers he was the most enthusiastic one there. Hermione loved it to say the least.

But harry… well harry didn't know. He definitely didn't want to fight anymore, so the Magical Law Enforcement was out. And though harry did love to help people he didn't want to see any more gore if he could help it. And so he crossed out St. Mungo's. He wanted a peaceful job, if one ever existed. And so that was why they were there, the three friends had gathered to eat ice cream and discuss job options for harry, cause truth was if he wanted to work somewhere it wouldn't be very hard to get in. being the Boy-Who-Lived-Twice did have its perks.

Harry groaned as Hermione once again suggested him apprenticing for the mental health department. Magical Therapy! Where he talked to people about their problems, while using magic to keep a calm atmosphere. He would like the idea if not for the fact that he probably needs his own Magical therapist himself.

"Oh come on harry! You'd be wonderful!" Hermione exclaimed excitingly. "You're so kind and sweet harry, and you have the heart to listen. And you'd most likely be able to relate to you clients with what you've gone through."

Ron nodded his head, swallowing what must have been his third sundae he added in "George is going through Magical Therapy right now and he say it's great and all except for the fact that the therapist doesn't understand him. But you harry! You've gone through hell and back, there are few things you wouldn't understand."

"What if my patient is afraid to speak freely in front of me 'cause I'm Harry Potter?" Hermione opened her mouth to speak but was stopped when harry continued, "You can't say that's not a possibility, cause it's very possible."

"Everyone is shy at first harry, you can't expect a person to open up right away and spill there secrets. You'll have to warm up to them, and then you. That's with everyone." Hermione probed gently, trying to get harry to see reason. She knew that he must think she was being nosey or demanding or maybe even annoying, but she wanted harry to have a job he'd love, a job that would make him feel good. And although he would have to here terrible things, she knew he feel great helping people, cause that's what harry did best. Help people. _Save_ people.

"It's true, mate! I wouldn't just go to a random stranger and spill my beans everywhere." He said mouth full and melted ice cream flying everywhere. Harry cringed, covering his ice cream.

"No, but you haven't a problem letting your food spill everywhere!" Hermione snapped, making harry laugh and Ron blush.

"I'll think about. Ok?" he said, and it was true, he would, he liked the idea of not having to see blood or fight to help people, he could be their friend instead, an ear to listen.

* * *

That night, as harry was washing his sheet, to owls swooped down. One he recognized as Hermione's, the other reminded him suspiciously of Hogwarts. Waving his wand over the letter he found no ill intent. Curiously harry took to letter, unraveling it, to reading its contents. Harry's eyes flew across the letter in shinning happiness. He yipped in excitement and dropped the letter running off to tell Remus the good news. He didn't even need to read Hermione's letter to know what it said, for he was sure she'd gotten the same letter as he. And around all around Europe Hogwarts previous seventh years got a letter that read something along the lines of Harrys:

 **Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry**

 **Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall**

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that all Hogwarts previous seventh years have been welcomed back for and eighth year due to the War. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July._

 _Sincerely,_ _Severus Snape, Deputy Headmaster_


	2. Chapter 2 Trace Your Thoughts

**AN; A Grand and Lovely Thanks to My Wonderful, Superb Awesome Beta Readers** **"TheDarkLadyofSlytherin" and "dragonheart971"** **. SO sorry for the terribly long delay, I was camping up where there was no Wi-Fi or even service, but on a regular bases chapters will be updated each week. And I just want to ease your concerns in saying I do have a written plot… also thanks for the support! Everything you recognize belongs to J.K. Rowling. Xoxo**

* * *

Chapter two;

To Trace your thoughts

 _"_ _He smiled softly, but this time it was different, his face smiled but his eyes didn't"_

 _-(da)_

Harry tapped his foot impatiently. Before the war he would have agreed that he was a fairly patient person. And perhaps he was, and still is, but at the moment harry wanted to do nothing more then remove his glamor make these people part for him like the red sea. But he didn't. he waited in the painfully long customers service line. _Waiting._

Harry hadn't been bluffing when he said he would revaluate his denial in regards to Magical Therapy. Not for him of course. But to consider pursuing it as a carrier. In every way the job fit Harry like a glove; besides the point that harry needed his own Magical Therapist.

Harrys life experiences made him wise beyond his age, and no matter how many excuses harry made, he had, in the end, grudgingly admitted he was well equipped for the job. From harry childhood with the Dursleys, his adventures at Hogwarts and the weight of the Chosen One, there wasn't much harry wouldn't understand, and if someone came to harry in regards to depression, loss, or self-hate, well he had experience them all. And on the sunny side harry would get his wish in helping people in a peaceful, quite, and _non-adventurous_ way.

Thus why harry was under a glamor waiting in a customers' service line at St. Mungo's Hospital. Harry was there, _waiting_ , to meet with the head of the MMHD; the Magical Mental Healing Department. From what harry had gathered the Wizarding words therapy wasn't much different from the muggles world, the only exception was the magical atmosphere.

Harry glanced up. _Thank Merlin!_ He thought. The only thing keeping him from the kind desk lady was a dark haired man in a suntanned trench coat.

"Hi! How many I help you today, sir?" her over enthusiastic voice made Harry shift uneasily.

"Um, I'm actually looking into the NEWTs I need to become a magical Therapist, I reckoned this would be the place to come"

"Oh, how wonderful! We've been looking for a young fellow for that department for age's. If you ask me, every one in that department is a couple of decades to old." She whispered from the corner of her mouth, finishing off with a breathy laugh.

Harry smiled politely.

"Well I'll just call for the Healer Callaghan, he's the current head of that department." She exclaimed, ringing a yellow bell.

Harry had only been to St. mungo's a handful of times, but anyone was smart enough to assume the series of colourful bells on her desk represented their own department.

Harry cleared his throat, catching the attention of the secretary, "I'm curious, I go to Hogwarts, and I've never heard of a healers or therapist course. Do they have one?" if they didn't it wouldn't matter, there was no way harry was not going to Hogwarts.

"well, yes, Hogwarts does offer a sufficient course, but not many students will enter. And those who do usually don't pass." She said sounding grim, as though she was one of those students, "oh but by all means, don't take it from me! You go right a head and try it, I'm sure Hr. Callaghan will cover it in your meeting." She continued with a huffy voice, "speaking of the devil, he coming right this way."

Harry noticed a kind, but professional looking man making his way over to the desk.

"Hello, Hr. Callaghan," she all but purred, and Harry couldn't help but raise an arched eyebrow, "this young man would like to enroll in the MMH course with Hogwarts. Would you be so kind as to give him the _thorough details_ of what that would look like." She battled her eye, and not so subtlety looked him over. Harry couldn't help but wonder what their history was.

The Healers cheeks were flaming red as he cleared his throat, "of course right this way…."

"Harry, sir"

"Well then Harry, lets take this to our office then, shall we?"

Harry nodded. As they were walking Hr. Callaghan leaned towards harry, asking in a hushed voice; "Would I be correct in assuming you're _the Harry_?"

Harry blushed, "If you mean Harry Potter, then yes." He said with sheepish smile. _The Harry?_ Harry thought sarcastically, made him sound like a teenage popstar.

The Healer nodded understanding why Harry would choose to hide under a glamor. Coming to a halt, Hr. Callaghan swung the door open for harry.

"Aah, here we are." Hr. Callaghan sat down in a plush purple chair gesturing for harry to take a seat.

"Now Mr. Potter, what can I do for you?"

"I want to sign up for the MMH course at Hogwarts, but, err, well I don't believe I have the required OWLs for it, and I haven't a clues in the slightest which NEWTs I'll need." harry explained.

Hr. Callaghan hesitate, seemingly having an internal debate with himself, "Mr. Potter," he paused, sighing before continuing, "I advise you to throw away this dream."

Harry look shocked. He felt shock! Why would he say that, to disregard him so quickly, without even having a conference or letting him even _start_ the course.

"Well lets just share are feelings then, right?" Harry bristled, almost snarled.

"Mr. Potter, I… that's not what I meant." Hr. Callaghan explained kindly, "I just meant you should take a couple years off, maybe get a couple of consoling sessions for yourself. Just… relax for a year. The War put more pressure and stress on you then any person should ever have to bare."

Harry visibly relaxed. And when he looked up at Hr. Callaghan his eyes where shadowed with a deep tiredness. "I wish I could, but realistically, that's not going to happen. Sir, I need to do something, I need to keep going, and getting a job is exactly what I need."

Hr. Callaghan looked confused, "In that case I would expect you to become an Auror. Why would you want to become a Magical Therapist?"

"I want to help people." Harry said with defiant, "sir" he added a little to late to be considered respectable.

"But I don't want to be involved with any more violence. I'm sick of it. And on the other hand the Daily Prophet would go nuts with articles if I became an Auror, my sessions within this building and with my clients would be privet." Harry looked Hr. Callaghan in the eyes with so much conviction and determination he felt as though they were a window to his soul. "but besides it all! I want people to heal through my suffering! I want to use my experiences, from the ridiculous trials and bullying and prejudice from Hogwarts, and my experience from the war and my loses, all of them, I want to help people from my experiences. I want the person that sits in the chair across from me to spill their troubles and their trials and feel like their understood, to have someone to connect to. Dose this make sense? Any of it?" harry ask almost desperately. Oh how _he_ just wanted to be understood.

"Well Mr. Potter!" Hr. Callaghan exclaimed cheerfully, "I do believe you thrive in this carrier!" he started digging around he desk until he found a file, "Aha! Here it is, ill just quickly send it to Madam Pomfrey. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to have you as here student, Merlin knows she hasn't had a student in years."

"umm… sir…?" Hr. Callaghan looked up from where he was scavenging around his full desk. He laughed upon seeing Harrys utterly confused face.

"Mr. Potter, I was just a test! Of course your fit for the job, I've been itching to get someone as perfect as you in this system." He beamed. And his smile was contagious causing Harrys face split into a wide grin too.

"Brilliant!" harry laughed. "So what are my requirements?" he asked a great deal cheerier then before.

"Well…" Hr. Callaghan said distractedly as the owl's soar into the green flams addressed to Madam Pomfrey. " There are a few things you'll need to complete, for experience, but you can do those at Hogwarts." He muttered, to himself or to harry, harry did not know.

"first of all," he directed this to harry, "your going to have to step up your grades in potions young man," Hr. Callaghan scolded. Harry internally groaned. Potions. Great.

"secondly, this program you'll be entering is going to is going to be intense and demanding, so if your looking for a laid back school year leave now." He paused, then continued when I became apparent harry wasn't going anywhere. "you will be apprenticing under Madam Pomfrey, as I mentioned earlier, but you know here well enough, I'm sure." Oh harry had been to the infirmary enough times to be best friends with the motherly nurse. "Under her guidance you'll study the brain, calming techniques, 1,2, and 3 grade medical, and you'll need to participate in multiple consoling session with a student and madam Pomfrey, for experience, so you'll be acting as the therapist."

Harry nodded accordingly, showing his understanding. Honestly if harry didn't want to keep his mature, professional stance up he'd be whopping in excitement.

"… you'll also be required to have three consoling sessions for yourself."

Harry snapped his eyes up to meet the Healers, excitement distinguishing like a candle under a water fall.

"not to worry though Mr. Potter, these sessions don't necessary have to be with a professional. As long as a friend or teacher even, writes a note saying you talked about required this it will be condemned acceptable. We have these sessions so your positions are reversed, and you experience what it would feel like to be the client." The Healer explained when he sensed Harrys discomfort.

"now on to required NEWTs; you'll need to have O's in Ancient Ruins, Potions, Charms and you Healing course."

"sir, I don't have Ancient Ruins in my class curricular." Harry explained nervously, he swore if he didn't get into this course because of one class, he was going back in time to murder the wizard who discovered Ancient Ruins.

Hr. Callaghan laughed at Harrys worried expression. "and worry not, Mr. potter. There's a fast track course you can take to meet the requirements for ancient ruins, it is extracurricular, but I'm sure you'll be able to handle it."

"right, of course sir. But I was wondering because I have a free block from where divination used to be could I not use that as my time with Madam Pomfrey?"

"well I assume that's what she is going to do." The healer said curiously, "but I'm not sure, although you are her only MMH student there is one other who is apprenticing to become a medical healer. Believe he's specializing in magical bugs, but who knows, my mind is failing me lately." He said with a chuckle.

Mean while harry was quickly taking a liking to Hr. Callaghan. The man was in his late thirties but he lights the room with laughs and smiles.

"well from what I can remember that's all you need to know, but I have a list of recommended books, just something to teach you the basics of psychology, and theirs a few books on that list that have great consoling strategy's and tips. I'm sure Madam Pomfrey would be vary impressed if you came to her class with this knowledge." He gave harry a look that said _read the books or your going to fail._ "but besides that Madam Pomfrey will send you a list of her own with books and supplies you'll need for the course."

"thank you, sir." Harry said genuinely.

"of course, of course, my pleasure Mr. Potter!"

….. now harry just had a load of book shopping to do. Merlin, he could practically hear Hermione's squeals of delights.

* * *

 _Coofffffeeeeeee…_

This was the first thing Remus' ultra-sensitive nose picked up as he stretched in bed.

Wait. Coffee? It was usually him who made the brew. But who…

 _Harry!? Harry up this early!? Oh what has happened to the Lunar Cycle._ Remus thought as he rolled out of bed.

Grabbing his night robe on the way out he wrapped himself in the silky material. He walked through the halls of number 12 Grimmauld place. The renovations harry had made on this place wiped all traces of the old dark magic that had been imbedded in the walls. All house-elf heads gone. All old dusty and stiff furniture gone. The only rooms in the house that remanded the same where Sirius' old room and Regulus' room. Otherwise the house had a historic look but at the same time all modern. Remus entered the kitchen, yawning as he walked through the doorway.

"Good morning, Remus." Came Harrys cheerful voice.

"G'morning, too." Remus rubbed his eyes walking over to the pot of dark brew. "what's got you up at this ungodly hour?"

"just cramming in the last bit of this book. You know I always figured the brain worked as separate sections, but their really all connected one way or another! One thing sparks another, while another calms the other. Its truly fascinating." Harry murmured his head still in the thick tome, highlighting something rather interesting or important.

Remus' interest was caught at learning harry was up at _this_ time, what happened to be 5 o'clock in the morning, to study. He was impressed.

"Really? Fascinating." Harry nodded absentmindedly, "Your really serious about this aren't you?"

At this harry looked up, "Of course I am. I promise you by Merlin's… by Merlin's whatever, I will get my degree, and I will become a brilliant therapist." He said with pure determination.

Remus smiled, pouring his coffee he congratulated harry, "Well good for you, kiddo, not many people would try to do this much in one year. But besides that! How are you feeling? Exited for Hogwarts?"

Remus knew for a fact harry was more eager to go back then most first year would, he'd been packed for a whole week now.

"Can't wait." Harry answered into his book. Behind said book Harry had stopped reading, a slight frown on his face.

A matching expression painted Remus's face at the dispassionate voice

To throw the naked truth out in the open, harry had been gawking on his nails with anxiety. The excitement he felt when his letter had first arrived had quickly began to diminish; now all harry could think about was what Hogwarts would be like. He was under no illusion that his home would be the same; whether it was because his hero status was through the roof and to the heavens, or perhaps because Hogwarts had been through reservations due to the war, or even because staff had change, students had change, the curricular had change, circumstances had change! But Harrys problems went deeper then the visible changes of Hogwarts. His relationship with the Weasleys had been stained like a allice-band stretched to far. When Harrys feelings for Ginny weren't the same after the war molly had been, to say in simple terms, disappointed. And when molly had tried to set them back up, well harry didn't come back for a little while. But the awkwardness had been painted over with multiple visits. Because in the bigger picture, why would he let his relationship to the closes thing he had to family get tarnished because of a little mishap. But his friend ship with Ginny… harry was still getting used to the sound of silence.

So as harry waited for the clock to tick its way to quarter to eleven, he couldn't help but worry himself over pointless, and not to mention inevitable, changes.

* * *

Bellows of white steam danced around children and guardians, swirling up and out of the red 4-6-0 Hall Class steam locomotive.

Harry sigh.

He was doing a lot of that lately, sighing. But this wasn't a tired or an unhappy sigh, this was a sigh of content. He was almost home.

Hauling his trunk onto the train Harry sighed again, this time out of sadness.

Hedwig.

His beloved Familiar. At the time Harry didn't have a chance to really mourn her death, but Hedwig had been his first friend, animal or not. And now being in such a conversant place, a place he had been to repeatedly, without the one present he always had; the memory breathed painfully on Harrys soul.

He pushed the memory away, locking it behind his Occlumency induced walls. It was a bad habit, but it worked. Ironically this was something he would be, hopefully, encouraging other _not_ to do.

Harry scanned each compartment, looking for a bushy hair head, and a carrot top.

A first year's eyes meet his. _Oh bloody hell!_ He saw more then heard the child gasp animatedly, jutting out a finger in Harrys general direction, causing the brats friends to whip their head around and look at him with wide fascinated eyes.

Harry threw his hood over his head, obscuring his vision slightly. _Bloody wizards,_ Harry couldn't help but think a tad bit bitterly, _staring at me like I'm an animal on exhibition._ If Harry wasn't the famous one, he admitted, he would probably be no different, but as it unfairly was, he was.

Abruptly Harry collided with some one. Or rather some one attacked him with a vicious hug.

"Oh Harry! I'm so happy you decided to give it a shot! You do great I promise. You'll be a therapist in no time!"

Hermione.

Harry looked down at her when she pulled away. How she knew it was him was beyond him.

"Hey, Hermione." Harry said smiling, "Mate."

Ron clapped him on the back good naturally.

"Did you guys get a compartment? I looked everywhere, all the first-y's are eager this year, compartment look pretty full." He rambled.

"Well, we do. Its at the vary end of the train, it has our stuff in it so one should be there, but me and Ron really should be on our way." At Harrys confused look, she elaborated, "Oh we're so sorry, Harry. I swear if we didn't have to go I wouldn't, but well… apparently our prefect duties haven't expired yet."

Harry tried to hide his dismayed expression. "Right, of course. Well hurry back when its done, I want to discuss that homework planner you got Ron and I back in fifth grade." He said with a smile.

Hermione practically squealed, and Ron looked between disgusted and horrified.

"Thanks, mate" Ron hissed sarcastically as Hermione dragged him along.

* * *

" _when you are asked what you are thinking about, you can normally answer. You believe you know what goes on in your mind, which often consists of one conscious thought leading in an orderly way to another. But that is not the only way a mind works, nor indeed is that the typical way. Most impressions and thoughts arise in your conscious experience without your knowing how they got there. You cannot trace how you came to the belief that there is a lamp on the desk in front of you, or how you detected a hint of irritation in your spouse's voice or the telephone, or how you managed to avoid a threat on the road before you became consciously aware of it. The mental work that produces impressions, intuitions, and many decisions goes on in silence in our mind."_

Harry scrambled quickly for a highlighter in his bag, he new he left one in here somewhere, this was a _must_ highlight paragraph. Of course a certain book worm would think such an act of defacement was blasphemy, but if it helped him memorized such bobbling knowledge then he could face her wrath.

Harry place his book face down, getting on his knees to check is he had dropped the troubled some, but admittedly useful vibrant felt. Harry fished for the highlighter ducking his head under the seat to get a better look…

There it was! The little cast away…

He swore; a heard of Hobgoblins followed him around just to make his life harder.

Harry heard the compartment door open. Snatching said highlighter, he tried to sit up, instead he bumped his head on the bottom of the seat. " _Ow!_ " he hissed. he slid from his obscured place, "I'm surprise you guys are back so soon, I reckoned the perfect meeting would take longer, you know, with reservations and -" a cough interrupted him.

But that wasn't Hermione or Ron's cough. This was from a voice he knew as well as his own, perhaps even better.

Harry whipped around, eyes the colour of sun shining through emerald jewels widen comically.

"Potter."

* * *

 **AN; okay…. So here's the second chappie. Once again sooooo sorry for the delay, I'm terribly behind on my English, ironically, and I don't think my teacher will accept a fanfiction instead…**

 **But any who, like before I** ** _promise_** **I'll have chapters in faster. Also BIG DISCLAMER! ITALIC TYPEFACE IS QUOTED FROM** ** _THINKING, FAST AND SLOW; BY DANIEL KAHNEMAN._** **You can find the paragraph on page 15, second paragraph.**

 **Also I there will be a lot more next chappie of our favorite blond…**


	3. Chapter 3 Aria, Senza Ossigeno

**AN: Okay, first my recognition that this story would be jumble of really bad grammar if not for my beta reader !** **drangonheart971** **! and** **!TheDarkLadyofSlythrin!** **Second, thank you so, so much for the support, its really appreciated. Third, everything you recognize as J.K Rowling's is hers! Fourth, reviews are deeply appreciated, even if it's a complaint or just a suggestion. :D**

* * *

Chapter Three; Aria, Senza Ossigeno

" _They say, 'follow your heart" but if your heart is in a million pieces, which piece do you follow?"_

 _Harry whipped around, eyes the colour of sun shinning through emerald jewels widen comically._

" _Potter"_

* * *

(Harry Potter)

Harry scrambled to stand up, a blush already staring to paint its way across his cheeks.

What a sight he must have made, arse in the air and half way under the seat…

He cleared his throat, embarrassment apparent. "Malfoy."

Silence fell heavily in the compartment. While Draco stuffed his hand deep in his pockets, Harry choose to swing his arm back and forth, both avoiding eye contact at all cost.

After the war Harry had made it his mission to return Malfoys wand. And he did. Harry had walked up to Malfoy Manor and requested to see Draco, it had been just his luck that its had been Lucius that answer the door. The stiff greetings and twitching hands was not something that Harry ever wanted to experience again, or the think about, at that. But when Narcissa had taken over, ushering Harry into take a seat and a cup of tea, he was surprised to say he had relaxed, and when Draco came, they acted civil, as to opposes of acting on behalf of their childish rivalry's. Unlike acting like a blabbing, bumbling band of baboons. The Malfoys had been shocked when Harry gave Draco his wand back, apologizing for the whole bamboozle.

It was to say the Malfoys and Potter families were at peace. But that didn't mean years of pointless bickering was lost on them.

Malfoy cleared his throat once more before asking, strained, "The compartments are all full."

Harry stood clueless for a moment, not catching on and waiting for Malfoy to continue.

"Oh! Um, yeah, yeah sure. Hermione and Ron will be back, but if that's no problem then by all means…" Harry hurriedly replied gesturing to the seat across from his book induced mess.

"Thank you." Malfoy murmured.

Silence fell once more.

Harry went back to his book, cursing his terrible people skills and berating himself to make a friendly conversation.

Eloquence, weighing each pro and con of starting a conversation with the Slytherin, Harry made up his mind.

Just as Harry marked his page and put his book away Malfoy spoke, "What are you apprenticing for, that is if you are apprenticing?"

Harry ignored the jab, instead he answered the seemingly innocent question. "I'm looking to become a Magical Therapist. Apparently not many people are apprenticing for the healers department this year. What 'bout you, what are you apprenticing for?"

Malfoy smirked but it wasn't malicious, nor was it directed at Harry, it was more a smirk directed at the irony of the whole situation "Well Potter, looks like your going to be seeing a lot more of me then you bargained for."

Harry swore there was a hint of victory in the Slytherin voice. Harry groaned, "I guess you're the one the one specializing in Magical Bugs?" Malfoys smirk widened, "Lets just make a mutual agreement not to sabotage each others carriers. Deal?"

Malfoy laughed easily, causing Harrys stomach to flutter, "Can't promise anything, after all your just too fun to tease."

Harry just smile, understanding the harmless nature of Malfoys words. What had Harry at oddities was the snitches fluttering in his stomach when Malfoy laughed. It was the first time he had heard the blond laugh at something not directed at him. But why would he act like that? Like a bloody girl with her first crush? He didn't even like Malfoy. They weren't even friends, just… acquaintances. Barely even that. you don't just start to like someone after hating them for years.

But did Harry really hate Malfoy? They had been so called enemies sense their encounter at Madam Malkin's. Right…? Harry hadn't really given it any thought, they were simply enemies from the beginning, Harry didn't know anything about Malfoy and vise-verse.

"I'm surprised though," Harry was snapped out of his thoughts. "I assumed you would be more interested in the Auror's program."

"You and every bloody other wizard." Harry mumbled.

(Draco Malfoy)

Draco frowned at the truth in those words. It was true, everyone expected Harry to continue saving their arses. Even when his part was done. Harry had done more for the wizarding world then it would ever be able to do for him, he'd been ripped from his world and brought into a slaughter house dedicated to him when he was only eleven. In all honesty, Draco hated it, he would be forever grateful to Harry, but to think that the wizarding saw Harry as nothing more then media made for there entertainment sicken him.

Harry deserved his own life now. In his opinion the wizarding world needed to bugger off.

Malfoy looked over the beautiful man before of him. The man who had done so much and was awarded with so little. A man who was still kind and forgiving despite everything he had been thrusted into. The man who had Malfoys heart without the knowledge of it. Draco wished that Harry would notice, but at the same time he could only hope Harry would move on and get married so Draco could rip out the little hope left in his heart.

Draco thought about Harry choice in carrier. It fitted him rather well if he didn't say so himself. Harry had a kind heart and understanding mind, but what made him so fit was his experience, in Draco's opinion.

"Soo… what is the Magical Bug Department like? Why'd you chose it?" Interrupted Harrys voice. The geniality of it warmed Draco.

Draco's attention refocused on Harry. He had change, Draco observed. Not necessarily for the worst. But he just looked… harder, tougher, wiser. More like a man. A man who had seen his share.

"Really, I choose this train of perfections because it mostly involves working with potions."

But the war had not stripped Harry of his kindness, like it had to so many.

"I'm apprenticing to work more as a provider and perhaps a practitioner,"

No instead the war had enhanced this mans beauty.

"But I'm not really being picky,"

Harry had grown in the best way, not by parents pampering, but by the hard lessons of the world.

"If there's a case were I need to operate, in the case of a Warbler Worm, which if you don't know, which you probably don't, affects the ears with its thrilling, high pitch screech, then I will be able to do so to."

Draco was really quite jealous of the glorious Gryffindor, who, if he dares say, seemed to be tinted with a poisonous drop of Slytherin.

"Fascinating, I never really heard much about Wizarding world sicknesses, really I should do some research."

But when Harry said such things as these, a raging fire roared to life in Draco's heart.

How could the wizarding world let their saviour, whether Harry admitted it or not he was there saviour, go eleven years of his life not knowing anything about his rightful world. And Draco wasn't oblivious to the hints in the daily prophet; he had caught the little hint pointing in the direction of what the media thought was abuse.

"As far as I know, Magical Therapy isn't much different then Muggle therapy." Harrys voice ripped him out of his angry muse.

"Wouldn't know." He said. "I've only been to the mud-ggles, muggles London a handful of times."

Harry looked shocked.

"Only a handful of times?"

"Father didn't really see it necessary to go to muggle London." Draco explained simply. Truth was the only time Draco had gone to muggle London was with his mother, or hid godfather, Professor Snape, who lived in a muggle town.

"Is that with all pure-bloods? You know, being deprived of the muggle world? Being sheltered in the wizarding world?" Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. This was dangerous territory, and not for the first time he didn't want to fright with Harry.

"Who do you reckon will be the DADA teacher this year?"

"Not a clue," Draco replied disinterestedly, "heard we've had them before, mind you."

"Hmm." Harry pondered who it could be, thanking who ever that it couldn't be Quirinus Quirrell or Gilderoy Lockhart.

"I- "

"Potter"

"Yes?"

"Stop talking."

* * *

(Harry Potter)

When Hermione and Ron returned, it was to day the least, that it was awkward.

Between Ron whipping out his wand and the silent eye conversations the Golden Trio had all the way back to Hogwarts, it was racking up to be one of Harrys worst Hogwarts train rides.

But all awkwardness from the train ride was banished when the train screeched to a halt at Hogsmeade, Hogwarts lights shinning in the distance. And if Harrys eyes didn't deceive him Hogwarts looked brand new. As thought the war had never happened.

The stars scattered across the sky like bread crumbs, but all bright little lights shielded away from the crisp full moon gleaming proudly above Hogwarts. The trees of the forbidden forest were shadows, only visible from the moon light washing over them.

It took Harrys breath away.

* * *

Headmistress McGonagall stood at the front of the great hall, asking for the students' attention by just standing.

"Good evening, students." She began as the hall fell silent "To those new; welcome! And to the rest of you; welcome back! Our care taker Mr. Filch would like to remind you that magic in the halls are not permitted and as always the forbidden forest is strictly forbidden…"

Harry droned her out, not to be rude, but because he had heard this speech six time before. It was only the mention of a new staff member that blew the clouds away from his head.

"Although our new Defence Against the Dark Art teacher is not here, due to private matters, we would like to inform you of our newest member, and welcome him back to Hogwarts. Many of you may remember him from his time teaching here before; Remus Lupin!"

The hall broke into applause, even the Slytherin, because even if they didn't like werewolves, they couldn't deny that Remus had been one of the best Defence teachers they'd had.

Harry turn wide, pleasantly surprised eyes to his friends. "Can you guys believe it! Were having Mooney back!"

Hermione and Ron laughed at there friends childlike, giddy behaviour.

"Calm down Harry, your going to have a heart attack."

"Silence, please, silence!" and Harry droned her out again, and it was some time before Harry was brought back to reality.

"Harry you have to tell me all about this new course your taking!" Hermione whined, gazing at Harry with eager eyes.

"Or how about explaining why that bloody ferret was in our compartment." Ron seethed, "blimey Harry, you're not going to snog Malfoy, are you?!"

Harrys stomach fluttered pleasantly, confusing Harry beyond the stars. Harry just scowled at Ron. Avoiding the question tactfully.

"I don't see why that's important, Ronald. If Harry wants to be friends with Malfoy, or more, then that's that. Its truly irrelevant"

"Yeah right, sure, keep saying that, but I'll be rubbin' it in your face when, that, that, that rat, comes and bits you in the arse!" Ron blustered, face a little flustered and rapidly turning crimson.

"Do I get a say in this?" both heads, red and brown, whipped around to Harry, "or are you going to continue arguing over an assumption you pulled out of the air?"

He was agitated. He really didn't want to deal with there bickering at the vary moment. It didn't help that a terrible headache had blossomed between his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Harry, that was rude of us." Hermione looked sheepishly at Harry, but he could see that she meant it.

"Yeah, sorry, mate." came a mumbled response.

"But really, what was Malfoy doing in our compartment?" Hermione inquired suspiciously, leaning over the table.

Harry just shrugged, he didn't really want to tell his friends that he was going to be having lessons with Malfoy and Madam Pomfrey privately for all three semesters. So instead he settled on a half truth.

"He didn't have any where to sit."

"Yeah sure, but why didn't he just sit with Parkinson and Zabini?" Ron asked, looking more suspicious then before.

"Well I reckon there not here." The hint of snark in his voice wasn't lost on his friends.

"Err, Harry?"

"Yes, 'Mione?"

"Their sitting behind you."

And sure enough they all were, Zabini and Malfoy were chatting away while Parkinson was engaged in what was most likely the _Witch Weekly_ gossip. That was truly curios. What was Malfoy doing in his compartment if his friends where already on the train?

Then again that brought up the other curious question of why Malfoy wasn't in the prefects meeting with the other Slytherin prefect, Parkinson.

Hermione and Ron had to known, they had after all be to the meeting themselves, "Well who represented the eighth year prefects?"

Ron looked thoughtful for a moment, then his face twisted into confusion, "Now that you mention it, Parkinson and Zabini were there."

Harrys lip twitched, of course them Gryffindor were expecting the worst of the Slytherin, but this year Harry was determined to stay out of trouble and keep his head down. "And it doesn't take a genius to guess they had prefect duties first." Harry said knowingly.

Hermione smile too, then nodded, saying with not little amount of mirth, "Well perhaps those rotten, scheming, no good Slytherin really aren't up to anything this year. Perhaps this is the year of peace and prosperity"

Harrys smile grew as he played alone, "Don't be so quick to speak Hermione, you know how I am, not only a lady magnet, the trouble seems to be just as attacked."

All three of them laughed.

* * *

All three of them groaned.

He really shouldn't have mocked his luck like that. Saying it would be a peaceful year, even if just joking. That was pretty much painting your self neon signs for karma.

There was defiantly something wrong with Harry if he thought he could scoop up a peaceful year.

So he shouldn't have, and truly he wasn't, been a surprise when the _Daily Prophet_ head line exclaimed in big broad letter;

 _ **REMAINING DEATHEATERS ESTABLISH BOUNTY ON HARRY POTTERS HEAD**_

And right below said heading and article, another warning informs readers that;

 _ **TENADOR NOTT AND THE CARROWS ESCAPSE FROM AZKABAN PRISON**_

Really why was Harry surprised. Why was there this sickening feeling that something had happened that was connected to these articles? Why was there the irritating tingle of familiarity?

And why did Harry still have a headache?

Bloody Mondays…

Hermione snatched the paper from there red headed friend, who gave Hermione an incredulous look, and started reading out loud to them at the spread of lightening.

"' _ **REMIANING DEATHEATHERS ESTABLISH BOUNTY OF HARRY POTTERS HEAD**_

 _After Head Auror, Kingsley Shacklebolt, heard of unusually high Deathearter activity in Knockturn Alley he arranged for an elite Auror to go under cover as a low level Deathearter and figure out why such unwanted company is so high. What this brave Auror finds is heart stopping. Reni Zedlin, the Auror who face this daring mission states to the Daily Prophet, "Deathearter from all ranks, one we haven't heard of and haven't been able to track down, they were all gathered at the farthest corner of Knockturn ally in a shop called Hallows Grub. A middle class Deathearter stood on a table and addressed the crowd of Deatheater's, this man must be wealthy because the amount of money that he offered for Mr. Potters head was no small gallon." As it is 100,000 gallons is the standing reward for Mr. Potter, but we have reasons to believe that this middle class Deathearter wasn't just proposing money, Mr. Zedlin continues, "Then shooting sparks from his wand he also claims a new dark lord needs to rise, saying the only way was for Mr. Potter to be taken out. He implies that if some one could take out Harry Potter they were worthy to be there leader, and rule the wizarding world." So its now we must ask are selves, is the war really over? Will it really ever be over while these people linger on and pollute the wizarding world? Investigations are continuing, and soon the Auror's hope to dispatch these reaming Deatheater's. Good luck Mr. Potter, and safe keeping._

"Blimey, Harry! 100,000 gallons! And a promise to be the next dark lord!" Ron exclaimed looking sincerely worried. It wasn't often Ron showed such caring emotions, but Ron generally looked scared for his friend.

"Not going to cash me in, are you Ron?" Harry teased lightly, an easy smile on his lips.

Next thing Harry knew a hard surface collided with his head.

"Bloody hell, 'Mione!" Harry looked at her worriedly, rubbing his head from where the old thick tome had abused his noggin.

"Harry James Potter! This is not a funny matter! There are people that want to kill you!" Hermione scolded angrily, eye brows scrunched together and hands on her hips.

"There's always people trying to kill me." It was a reasonable agreement in Harrys opinion.

"Yes, but there wasn't always such a promising reward, mate. Hermione's right, this isn't funny." Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron, mothing the word 'traitor' at him.

"Okay, okay, don't get your knickers in a not. But really at least I have a decent bounty, like wow! 100,000 gallons! I might cash my self in for tha- Ow! 'key I deserved that."

(Draco Malfoy)

Draco watch as the whole great hall broke out in whispers. The news in the _Daily Prophet_ wasn't something to take lightly, Draco being a Slytherin new what people would do to accomplish a tittle as great and terrible as a dark lord.

Worry was twisting Draco's gut horribly. His stomach felt as thought it was being turning into origami.

And there was stupid Potter laughing it off as though it was nothing. Joking about it for the sake of his friends.

But Draco could see the emotions Harry was hiding. The disappointment, the tingle of fear in the Gryffindor's eyes. It was there, and it was absolutely heart breaking. The war was over, Harry deserved to have his life now, not having to worry about being poisoned or murdered in his sleep, not having to worry about Deatheater's breaking out of prison or anything else. He should be worrying about his education, romantics, his future house.

But the Deathearter who had broken out of prison.

Tenador Nott. His son was in their grade. Theodore Nott.

Both of them where ambitious, both of them craved power. But from what Draco had heard Theodore wasn't a murder, he preferred black mail and trickery.

But then again, the Nott's weren't a vary powerful family, in magical and political power. Draco doubted they would be a problem. If the _Daily Prophet_ was telling the truth about Nott senior breaking out of prison, he was probably half insane and hiding out in caves. It also wasn't a big secret that both males in the Nott family had had a falling out, it was probably the only reason Theodore Nott didn't get a ticket to Azkaban with his father.

But who else did Draco have to worry about in regards to trying to hurt Harry? There was Crabbe, but his father was in Azkaban and Draco doubted that Crabbe had that kind of ambition… or intelligence for that matter.

There was Roselyn Henderson, half blood, ledges with Voldemort, smart, ambitious, should have been in Slytherin really, but her family had gotten away without going to Azkaban by money, bribery and most likely black mail. She was a potential treat. Her parents could use her to meet then ends.

There were also the nieces of the Carrows, Sydni Carrow and Talia Carrow, both in there seventh years, it was a miracle, or perhaps a curse, that they still had their wands.

The sisters were no doubt a threat. The Carrows would certainly make a bee line to the Deatheater's meetings and gather information, then use the sisters at Hogwarts.

Draco's family had been pardon in trial without such low tactics as the Henderson's. His father had gone under Veritaserum recounting their divesting and devastating time during the war, recalling the year of fear and terror. Not being able to back out of the war with Voldemort hovering constantly over them.

Truthfully they were probably only set free through pity. But Draco was okay with it. His family donated and sponsored store, helped get the wizarding world back on track, the Malfoys contributed but kept there heads down.

And Draco was fine with that.

But right now the only thing that mattered was getting Harry Potter through the year. And if that meant finally allowing himself to get close to the boy… well it wouldn't be that bad.

* * *

"Turn to page three hundred… and ninety-four." Came to calm drawl, pale lips drawing the four out longer then necessary.

The only sound heard in the class room was the turning of pages.

"Now… the headmistress thought it would be… beneficial to the four houses of Hogwarts to work together, and… get rid of the 'silly house rivalries'. Such things have been added to this year's curricular reports. Thus this year will start with the pairing you children." It was obvious how Snape thought of this plan, the sneer he was trying to bit back was prof enough.

As professor Snape continued down a list it became apparent that each pairing was made up of a Slytherin and Gryffindor.

"Draco Malfoy and…" Draco's stomach fluttered. Harry hadn't been called yet, and though Harry sucked at potions, besides his miracle sixth year, he couldn't help but hope. But then again it probably didn't help that his godfather was always looming over Harrys shoulder.

"…Harry Potter."

Draco's heart must have glowed with the contained happiness he was feeling.

But Draco just slandered over to were Harry was sitting, and smirked at Harry. Weasley gave him a narrow eyed stare.

"Potter." He greeted coolly, but without the cutting edge to his voice that Harrys friends were so used to.

Harry nodded his head, "Malfoy."

Weasley sighed in exasperation, apparently not understanding why Harry could be civil to such a cowardly sniveling piece of-, you get the point, Weasley obviously thought Malfoy was unworthy of the Golden Boys present. Hermione was moved to Pansy Parkinson and Ron with Blaise Zabini, much to the red heads dismay.

"Now…" the whole class silenced instantly. "Assignment one; you must collaborate with your partner to make a pain reliving potion. Hand it in at the end of class. If I see any one of your partners slacking… I will not be impressed." Snape scanned the class with his soulless eyes.

"Now I think we can come to an agreement that you gather ingredients and cut, and I'll make the potion." Draco's voice didn't really leave any room for desiccation. It wasn't that he wanted to be rude to the raven haired boy, but Harrys potion skills weren't ideal, and if they both wanted to get the degrees then a bit of fancy cheating was instore.

"Right, of course." Harry grumbled.

Draco watched Harry shuffled off to the ingredient cupboard, getting there before the tsunami of students did.

Draco redirected his attention to his potions book, reading the complicated directions, or at least they would be complicated to anyone else.

Draco new Harry needed to pass potions with an Outstanding or he would be denied his degree, every medical carrier required top marks in both Potions and Charms.

Draco's potions book was snatched from under his unseeing eyes. Draco jumped, not noticing the warm body that had come to stand beside him.

"What are you-?!"

"Relax, Malfoy, I'm just seeing what width I need to cut these and what you need first."

Draco scowled but didn't comment. There was no reason to start a fight over such a small thing. He wanted to be friends with Harry this year. Friends. Not enemies.

Friends.

Right… that's if Draco didn't throttle Harry first.

"Your cutting them wrong."

Harry looked over at Malfoy, then down at his hands, then at the book between them.

"What?"

Harry looked genuinely confused, and though Draco wanted to memorize such an adorable, innocent expression, they didn't have time for this.

Snatching the knife and the poor mouse tail from Harrys hands, he showed him how to cut them. On a slant, not straight down.

Shoving it back at Harry, he gestured for him to try, "Give it a go," he ordered.

"Like…" Harry started to cut the mouse tail, tilting the knife so each small piece was slanted, "this?"

Draco sighed. He was hopeless. He was doomed. "No your cutting it from the wrong end. You never use you the tip of a mouse tail, Potter. Never. It's the lowest quality point of the tail, used for lesser potions, ones that don't required as much energy; like low leveled Love Potions."

Potter nodded in understanding, "So like this."

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong!

"No, Potter," Draco place his hand over Harrys and guided there hands correctly, cutting smoothly through the mouse tail. Draco took his hand away when Harry appeared to have gotten it.

Harrys face was flushed a light pink and his head was ducked lower then necessary, but Draco ignored it, assuming it was from the embarrassment of his failure. "There, like so, now cut the rest like that." he said softly.

"Right, thanks." Harry mumbled.

Draco nodded, and started adding the first few spices, then scoping up the mouse tail pieces and added them, turning the pot down and stirring five times counter clock wise.

There potion was perfect and first one done.

Over all, Potions Class was successful.

* * *

(?)

There eyes few across the contents of the letters, treasuring what the parchment paper read. They reread it, out of disbelief or excitement it didn't matter. This was the beginning! There plan was to finally came to action! There was no way anything could come between their rule and fame if this plan worked.

They wouldn't let any one come across this. They would erase their memory, torture them into submission, threaten them and even kill them if they must. They were going to be royalty, no matter what.

They threw the letter into the air, whispering 'Incendio,' and watched as the letter light on fire. The last words caught on fire, scorching them into there mind.

" _Harry Potter's blood is our glory."_

Aria, Senza Ossigeno.

* * *

(Harry Potter)

Harry rubbed his eyes from under his glasses, then rubbed the bridge of his nose where a red mark had started to form from him pushing his glasses back on to his nose to many times.

He really needed to get contacts.

Running a hand through his hair, Harry started to pack up his books.

Classes had been exhausting, but then again the first days always were. Charms, DADA, Transfiguration, Potions. Blah, blah, blah. And to top it all off he had gone to the library to research more on Magical Therapy in its self. He had forgotten dinner for Merlin's sake, and tomorrow he would be meeting with Madam Pomfrey for his first lesson. And meeting with Headmistress McGonagall to start his Ancient Ruins fast track program.

Ugh. He was not looking forward to that.

But at the same time he was exhilarated.

But he was tired. Hence why he was packing up for the night.

It was ridiculous how much Harry enjoyed reading when he got into it, it was an odd change, considering the previous years at Hogwarts he only entered the library if he was dragged in by Hermione.

So Harry wasn't exactly surprised when he entered the library and Madam Pince narrowed her eyes at him, though it got a little unnerving when Harry caught her glaring quite heatedly at him.

Harry slung his bag on his shoulders, rolling his stiff neck, and strolled out of the library. He was the last student, and though the library didn't close for another hour, it was the first day of school and most students were still catching up with friends.

But bless the eighth years' curfew. Midnight. All eighth years got to stay out till midnight, so sue him if he wasn't going to abuse that privilege.

Harry took the hall way leading away from the Gryffindor commend room, and headed for the kitchen. Maybe he'd see Kreacher, the old House Elf had insisted that he come to Hogwarts with Remus and his self. Just the thought of Remus coming to Hogwarts to teach made Harry giddy with happiness.

Harry turn right down the dark corridor of hallways. Literally. It was a hallway with like ten other hallways leading to it.

Harry hated it. The hallway looked like something from the Department of Mysteries.

* * *

(?)

They could hear foot steps approaching.

This was it.

This was his chance.

No time to wait.

No time like the present.

Harry Potter's blood was their glory.

* * *

(Harry Potter)

Harry shivered, he couldn't nock off the feeling that some one was watching him. Harry tried to reason with himself, he was just paranoid.

But even then all he could here was Alastair Moody's voice screaming 'CONSTANT VIGILANCE.'

Harry glanced nervously around him but carried on down the hall way.

* * *

(?)

They moved flat up against the cold stone wall as Potter walked past the hall way they hid in. Potter walked pass, looking nervous as he did so.

Pulling out their wand they pointed it at Potters back. In a whisper barley hearable to even the caster, they chanted, "Senza Ossigeno."

* * *

(Harry Potter)

Harry could have sworn he hard heard something. Stopping Harry slowly turned around, his breathing to slow and it hurt to breath in deeply.

Harry was frightened, but not frightened enough for his breathing to turn hypertensive. It hadn't happened during the war, and it sure as hell wasn't going to happen in a hallway that spooked Harry.

Not on his non-existent watch.

Harry turned around and started walking again.

* * *

(?)

 _It mustn't have worked,_ they concluded.

Potter hadn't dropped to the floor suffocating and withering, and then there defiantly hadn't been a bright green light indicating his death. So it mustn't have worked.

 _Shit_

They whispered again, "Senza Ossigeno."

* * *

(Harry Potter)

Harry was not going insane. He had defiantly, with out a doubt, heard something. And _felt_ something. A weird tingling ran through his body, building in his chest.

Harry whipped out his wand, contemplating whether he should yell for help.

Too late.

* * *

(?)

Potter had been affected! They just weren't strong enough for the curse to work properly.

They guess this would be a long term project.

Their instructor wouldn't be impressed when they heard of this complication.

"Senza Ossigeno." They whispered for that last time that night.

* * *

(Harry Potter)

Harry couldn't breath.

He gasped for air, gaping like a fish out of water. But his efforts were suddenly cut of as something that felt more urgent kicked into life.

Harry let out a strangled cough and clutched his chest in pain.

What felt like a million needles pierce his chest and heart, he was instantly reminded of what happened weeks ago. The pain intensified, but the worst pain came from the lightening blot scar on his chest. It felt like fire, like that vary scar its self was being burnt into his flesh.

Harry doubled over and cried out, wasting precious air with his silly cries, but he didn't care and as knees and hands hit the cold stone painfully he barely felt it.

Where the bloody hell was everybody? But then again maybe it was better if someone didn't find him like this.

A cough ripped at Harrys throat again, cutting off another cry. Letting out another horse cough, Harry rolled on to his side as the pain escalated.

He was enable to make a sound as the scar on his chest ripped open, he could _feel_ that skin separate in the shape of a lightening bolt, the same way he could feel the blood tickle down the side of his cheek as he let out another husky burst of air.

And finally as he gasped, air rushed into his lungs and the pain in Harrys body disappeared almost instantly. Coughing brutally, Harry gasped air into his lungs over and over.

Rolling onto his back Harry caught his breath, his breathing calming and becoming rhythmic once again.

Gingerly Harry lifted his shirt, not caring if he was in the middle of a hallway, and check the damage.

 _Bloody hell!_

Bloody hell, indeed. He was correct in thinking that the curse scar on his chest had reopened and was bleeding profoundly, though the flow had started to clog.

The scar had been a gift from Voldemort. When Harry had gone to the forest during the battel of Hogwarts and willingly given his life up that killing curse hadn't had the curtesy to leave him without a scar, so as it was he was baring another lightening bolt mark.

And now one of them was raw and bloody looking. And gross.

 _Blimey, almost suffocating to death really takes it out of you_.

Harrys body felt like lead, like it was being pushed to the ground by a gravity far to strong.

So Harry lay there in the hallway of hallways, waited for his muscle to gain the oxygen they needed, pressing on the bleeding scar, and thought a royal thought:

 _Fuck._

* * *

 **Hey! Okay, I know, I know, no excuses this time… besides that we all had test and exams to do, but I** _ **will try**_ **to get a chapter posted every two weeks.**

 **I was superb nervous for this chapter, you know with the dialogue and everything, so please, please, tell me if the dialogue is crap or if the dialogue is good, cause that's probably my biggest insecurity. Also how did you like Harrys little accident at the end? Next chapter Harry will be wondering a lot about what happen, so the little faze of it just being a 'misfortunate cough' is up.**

 **Oh and P.S this story is going to be 24 chapters, like I mentioned before the plot is already written out.**

 **ANYWHO… PLEASE REVIEW!**

 **XXX**


	4. Chapter 4 Slug Trials

**NA; Heeeeyyyyyyy, tell me how you guys are, I want to know… anywho, thank you soooooo much to those who reviewed! And thank you for following or even adding my fanfiction to your favorites, that really means a lot to me. My truly grand, sparkling queen beta reader is !D** **ragonheart971** **! All you recognize belongs to J.K Rowling or the Warner Bros.**

* * *

" _You must understand the importance of leaving behind a trail. You must understand the importance of knowing where you have been. You must retrace you mistake, your horrors, your illnesses. And from them you must heal slowly. Revisit them like a slug revisits its saliva trails, and heal slowly like and slug travels from one area of its life to the next." -Me_

 _Chapter 4' slug trails._

* * *

(?)

' _Dear'_ they paused momentarily. If their letter was intersected it would ruin their whole plan and they would be thrown in to Azkaban, meaning no names could be said, and limited information passed through the owl network.

They started again with a sigh,

' _Dear loved one,'_ they grimaced at that one, but it would have to do.

 _Things have reached an unlikely, and unfortunate complication. Aria is a strong mechanism, and embarrassingly I do not have the power to initiate it at full strength, though that is not to say it was not efficient, Aria dose indeed work and it seems to cause immense discomfort. I believe I can accomplish our goal by the end of the year; the curse should collapse our victim's lungs but that time or result in respiratory failure. Though something odd happened, our victim heaved blood and started to bleed else where, I was not aware Aria had that side affect. I was only informed Aria would suffocate our victim._

 _Regards,_

 _Your friend._

They sighed once again, prying they didn't get cursed for their failure

* * *

(Harry Potter)

Harry opened his eyes, see the blurry image of the wretched person who continued to shake him relentlessly. Harry batted the hands away, rolling to snuggle deeper into his warm sheets.

Last night Harry had laid helplessly on the cold stone of Hogwarts, waiting for sweet oxygen to warm his muscles. His lungs had felt like deflated balloons; deflated balloons with hole in them, thus making filling them up an almost impossible fleet. But slowly his body began to find its strength in the oxygen Harry managed gasped in, and later then Harry would have liked, he had got up and spelled away the mess his blood had made and dragged his heavy legs up tortuous steps that, despite the time, never slept.

It was only his generous luck that keep prefects and teachers from finding him, or worse; Mrs. Norris.

It was only the heavy tiredness that came with the side-affects of almost suffocating that Harry had yet to freak out; a fuzzy mind- and a pounding head ache. When he had gotten back to the Gryffindor common room it had been no surprise that the boys were fast asleep, and for that Harry was grateful. The blood staining his school shirt was not something Harry wanted to explain to Ron. So Harry had banished yet another shirt off his, making a mental note to buy a new one. It was when he came to the question of what to do to his reopened scar he was lost. So Harry did a dejectedly stupid thing; he left it alone. To his defense he would have treated it if there had been a medical kit in their dorms washrooms, but as it was, there wasn't.

So promptly ignoring the fact that there was someone in the school who wanted him dead, again, he dressed in a shirt, and fell dead in his bed, ignoring he way the fabric of his shirt rubbed irritably on his raw skin.

"Harry! Get up mate! All the foods going to be gone by the time we get there!"

"Nooo." Harry grumbled, it was to early for the living…

"You have, like, ten minuet mate! Get up!" Ron nagged persistently.

Harry shot up, suddenly vary awake, "Bloody hell, Ron! Why didn't you wake me up?"

Harry jumped out of bed, practically tripping into his pants as he tried to grab his tooth brush.

Harry ignored Ron completely, missing his friends incredulous look and shocked stuttering.

Harry was done for, it was today that Harry needed to meet with Madam Pomfrey and Headmistress McGonagall, the one day he cared about his aesthetics and he had ten minuets to get ready!

" _I swear Harry, I tried to wake you up, but you, you, you sleep like a rock!"_

Dear merlin be with him, if the hooligan whom had tried to murder him wreaked his one shot at getting into this program with Madam Pomfrey, _he_ was going to murder _them_.

" _Your dead to the world mate, bloody lucky I didn't leave you like the rest of those gits."_

He would go start with those Deatheater's who came up with the whole stupid game, he would tear them limb from limb. Their stupid game was like Harry Hunting, but extreme.

" _And usually you're the one who wakes me up._ And it not like you really every cared about being late for potions before, why dose it matters now."

Harry stilled, suddenly hearing Ron's ranting for the first time. Toothbrush still in his mouth, Harry slowly turned around, eyes widened with doomed kismet.

"What?" he whispered, terrified. Potions. He had bloody potions first. Snape was going to fail him if he was a second late.

When Snape had been attacked by Nagini in the final battle Harry, Ron and Hermione had rushed to help him, at the same time Voldemort had spoken to each person through their minds, giving all of them an hour. So taking such opportunity they took him to Madam Pomfrey, who was lucky enough to save him from the deadly venom.

After that day a mutual agreement of civilized peace fell over them. But that didn't mean Snape wasn't the same snarky, sarcastic bastard as before.

Ron shifted nervously, when had Harry every cared about potions? "Um, potions. First block. In Ten minutes."

Harry was suddenly very glad Hermione had forced him to learn freshening charms, cause at the moment he spat out his tooth paste and quickly finish throwing on the rest of his school cloths.

Running to the potions classroom proceeded with Harry muttering every morning charm he new, trying to look at least presentable.

And he missed meal time.

Again.

* * *

"As a result of your potions previously, seating and partners will remain the same." Came Severus Snape's drawl, "this term will consist of one assignment."

Professor Snape turned to the black board behind him, writing in sharp, compacted calligraphy, their assignment.

Turning to the silent class he bathed them in his obsidian gaze, "You will create a potion that dose not _harm, nor kill. And_ it must have a usefulness, and work for what ever you choose to make it for."

The class with dead silent, not a muscle twitching.

"What are you waiting for! Get to work! I expect your ideas and possible formula by the end of this class." Professors Snape's voice snapped startling the students into action.

(Draco Malfoy)

Draco's gaze wandered over Harrys stance. Tiered, stiff, miserable looking… almost appearing to be in pain.

Draco's eyes wandered back up to Harrys face, only to meet Harrys eyes awkwardly. He looked away, blood rushing to his face.

"Err… so you have any ideas? I mean we could create a medical potion that calms the person into an almost sleep like state, or we could make something that's like the opposite of love potion! Like a hate potion or something, or-" Draco watched Harry rambled on, but efficiently cut him off, stopping him before he made a fool of himself and bit his own tongue.

"Well it seems you have many ideas your self, Potter. But no we couldn't create a hate potion because it could be relatively harmful, and your first idea is much to like an already existing calming draft." Draco countered, feeling slightly smug of his conclusions.

"Well what do you propose then, Malfoy?" Draco could hear the slight annoyance in Harrys voice.

"How about an extracting potion? For example; you already know that a Bezoar is a great supplement for poison, it just soaks up all the poison. Now what if we made something that had the same concept but instead soaked up lingering curses, hexes, and dark magic from wounds, in a result the wounds would be able to heal properly, not leaving any marks and taking away potential health problems in the future."

(Harry potter)

Excitement glowed in Draco's eyes, giving him the slight look of a toddler receiving a lollipop, but it took Harrys breath way.

"Brilliant…" Harry said breathlessly, why was he acting like this? He was Gryffindor, not a bloody Hufflepuff, "lets do that."

"Right, okay. Now Bezoar is still useful in regards to poison because of its absorbing technique, but we need something that will eat up dark magic and hexes and curses but at the same time-"

"-not suck up the drinker's magic." Harry finished.

Draco glanced at Harry oddly, as though he was discovering he wasn't such an idiot as he always thought, "That's correct, it would he absolutely catastrophic if the users magical core was absorbed at the same time, so something weak perhaps."

"Or a balm, because then the antidote would pull the magic out, but it wouldn't be strong enough to really affect the users magical core," Harry offered. "cause, you know, our magical cores are here," Harry pointed to his head, "and if the antidote only needs to absorb magic on the surface then it wouldn't affect the magical core."

(Draco Malfoy)

Draco never would have imagined Harry being this good at potions, or perhaps not good at potions. But at least he had astonishing, logical solutions and ideas.

"That could work, though it wouldn't necessary be a potion then, we could ask but…"

"Wait! There was this potion thingy that madam Pomfrey used on me a few years ago. It was a liquid, but she still applied it to my skin."

Draco thought for a moment, it bothered him that Harry had been to the hospital wing enough times to know a rare occasion of a potion like such, but he had a point. Now that Draco thought about it he could think of one or two potions that weren't made for the human systems because it was too strong, so it was applied to the skin or inflicted area of pain.

"Your right, in the case of Dragon Pocks a potion is dabbed onto the skin, or in some cases added to bath water." Draco concluded, thinking out loud.

"Sounds like you speak from experience." Draco turned his attention to Harry.

Draco sneered slightly, "Shut up and make your self useful." Harry put his hands up in defense, "Find the page with herbs."

Harry did as he was instructed, flipping to the index and from there to the informed page. Draco stop Harry once the flip to a page dedicated to the usefulness of mint.

"Why mint?" Draco sighed at Harrys question.

"Mint isn't just a freshener, it is also an antibiotic, it directs its attention to what ever is preventing the wound from healing, thus the mint might help fight off the harmful magic. From what I know muggles use it when they have a cold or something?" Draco explained.

"Yeah they put it in tea. So… dose that mean Bezoar juices will be needed, or not? Because it absorbs damaging substances?" Harry looked, and was, in Draco's opinion genuinely interested.

"I wanted to avoided it if possible, we could try to substitute it with, say… slug mucus." Draco said distastefully.

Harry looked absolutely disgusted. " _Slug mucus?!_ Like the sparkly, gooey stuff they leave behind in trails. You got to be bloody joking! That repulsive."

Draco cringed at the thought of slugs in general, "I know and while it is truly distasted," Harry snorted, "it is vary close to Bezoar. Slug mucus is hygroscopic. Which if you don't know, means it attracts and absorbs, then holds things surrounding its environment. Muggles thinks this only refers to water molecules, but it doesn't, truthfully it attracts, absorbs and hold many thing, magic included. While it is disgusting it would be a safer option." Draco reasoned, even though the idea nauseated him.

"I guess I'll added it to the list." Harry said hesitantly.

"Right, you do that, added mint herbs too, we'll elaborate on them later. I suppose we should add Bezoar too, you know just encase." Harry nodded. "Did you write down what were making?"

"Mhmm" Harry hummed.

"And its descriptive?" Draco was shot an annoyed glance, but received a nod.

"Brilliant." Draco said absent mindedly as he shuffled through the herbs, writing them down on a note pad for Harry to put them on the list.

"Here put this on the list." Draco ripped the note pad from it group and stuck it beside the list.

"Tea Tree oil? Are we going to try using that instead of mint herbs? For the healing and scaring aspect?"

Draco shrugged, "Its worth the try, simplicity is sometimes better. Oh, and By the way, Potter, we have classes with Madam Pomfrey after this."

"Figured, Ron has divination after this, which is the block that Madam Pomfrey agreed to teach me in. Hey, what class did you drop?" Harry looked to Draco.

"Sadly Ancient Ruins, but I didn't need it for my degree." While Draco was disappointed he would be discontinuing one of his favorite classes, it truly wasn't necessary, and should he miss it enough he could continue his studies on his own time.

"I have to learn Ancient Ruins, but I've never taken the class, so Professor McGonagall is going to set me up with a fast track program."

Draco laughed at that, Harry was going to learn five years of complicate ruins, complex systems and brain-breaking chants in the cores of one year. Sorry, but that was laughable. "Really? Well I'll call you king when that happens, Potter." Draco snickered again, pointing to another herb, calendula which was used on sick to help with infection and heal wounds. Harry wrote it down grudgingly and glared at Malfoy.

"Well if your so brilliant at Ancient Ruins why don't you prove it, why don't you help me?" It was obvious to Draco that this was wounding Harrys pride.

So Draco took hold of the opportunity to tease Harry and gripped it tight. He raised a blond arched eyebrow, sticking his chin up a bit preposterously. "Are you Harry Potter, oh great one, asking me to tutor you?"

Harry rolled his eyes, but Draco could see the smile tugging on his lips. "yes I am, you prat, and mock my words you will be calling me king." Harry shot back starting to pack up his supplies after checking his watch.

Draco laughed as his godfather instructed the student to hand in their list, "alright Potter, you've got your self a deal, but if I'm right and you don't pass Ancient Ruins then your calling me king."

This time Harry did smile, and it was utterly beautiful, "Sure thing, Malfoy." Harry playfully nocked his shoulder into Draco's, walking past him to the door

Draco gazed at him in masked awe as Harry walked away.

* * *

(Harry potter)

Harry made bee line for the boy's loo, pushing the door open with his shoulder as his hand pressed against his scar.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

Why did he think it would be a good idea to knock into Malfoys shoulder when his scar was as tender as it was?

Harry pushed open a stall and slipped in, leaning on the door as he unbuttoned is shirt.

And what a perfect moment for luck to swing around and kick him in the ass.

Little beads of crimson had begun to surface the crease of his scar, while the skin around it was an angry red. Harry pressed a scrunched up ruffle of toilet paper to the old wound, wincing at the pressure he applied to stop the bleeding faster, after all he had 10 minutes till his next class.

The reality that he had almost suffocated to death last night hit him like a brick to the face. They were still out there, in the halls, in the class rooms, in the washrooms. And Harry had no idea who it was. They were a faceless threat. He didn't even know what curse or spell they used. Blimey, he didn't even know if it was a curse or spell.

Were they even a student? Were they apart of the Deatheater's new organization? Or were they just out for revenge, or perhaps answers? Where they just toying with him. If they wanted answers why didn't they kidnap him? If they wanted him dead, why hadn't they just killed him? An 'Avada Kedavra' and he was dead.

But wait. Who said it was even a person? Who said there was someone out for his blood? He hadn't seen anyone, and while Harry had felt creeped out, there was a possibility he could have just been paranoid.

Perhaps Harry was just paranoid.

Maybe Harry just had a health problem? _But its never that easy. Is it?_ Harry thought bitterly.

But there was no use freaking himself out about something that he didn't have prof of.

Now that Harry thought about it this had happened before! A few weeks ago, how could he forget? If he recalled correctly he had had troubles breathing, though not as bad, and really the only reason his breathing was constricted was because of the blooded blocking his airway but even so it was too similar not to be related, and his scar had ached terribly, even bleeding as it had last night. But at the time there hadn't been any Deatheater's plotting against him, not that the public had know of anyhow. But even if the Deatheater's had been trying to get their grubby little hands on him, they wouldn't have been able to. Harry had been in Grimmauld Place at the time, which was under a Fidelius charm Harry had made himself, he as the secret keeper and no one but himself, Remus, Ron and Hermione new of it location.

 _So perhaps this is all silly suspicion_ Harry thought as he pulled away the bloodied paper, sighing in relief as no more blood bubbled up, _perhaps I'm just sick, or maybe there's something odd with my scar. In that case I'll go to madam Pomfrey if it gets any worse._

And with that thought Harry buttoned up his shirt and flushed way they used toilet paper, walking out the bathroom door with a healthy mix of caution but also relief.

* * *

(Draco Malfoy)

"You've made it," the bell chimed, "though only by the nick of time."

Draco, who was sitting on one of the hospital beds waiting for Madam Pomfrey, watched Harry walk in to the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey thought was fit to teach her students, and considering it was only Harry and himself it would probably do just fine.

"Where were you? Off checking up with the rest of the golden trio?" Draco's voiced held the sneer that married his face. He tried to hide it, but year of uncaring attitude and forced malice directed towards Harry had become a coping mechanism he had used to hide his true feelings, and while he wanted to throw such habits way, there was bond to be the occasional slip. And the jealousy that panged in his chest at the thought of all the attention Harry gave his friends, the attention Draco craved so much, Draco's attitude and true feelings weren't going to stay hidden this time.

So as it was, he sneered at the thought of the bushy-haired Brainiac and the freckled carrot top.

And of course that would offend Harry.

But surprisingly Harry just cursed lightly under his breath…

So apparently he hadn't see his friends. Huh. Then what had he been doing?

"No, actually, I forgot. Had something else I had to take care of." Harry sighed off handily.

Draco scrutinised Harry, he looked… paler. Well paler then usual, Harry always had had a porcelain glow to him, but this didn't look as healthy. Mabey Harry had a rough night, or maybe he was sick.

Perhaps Draco was just paranoid.

Draco's face softened. There was no reason Draco should be jealous, is wasn't as though Harry was going to jump Weasley or snog Granger. They were just friends, and Harry and Draco were just…

Nothing.

Draco looked away from Harry as he took a seat on the bed next to him.

The silence that coated them was heavy and awkward, and Draco had the terrible feeling that everything, all the progress that had been made on Harrys and his selves relationship this morning, had been destroyed. The tension felt disgustingly heavy to Draco, and not for the first time Draco wished he could go back eight years to the day in Diagon Alley, Madam Malkin's, and give Harry his condolence for his lost parents, and for his suffering, to introduce himself not as a Malfoy but as an individual, as Draco, as someone who didn't think his being was above all.

But what could he do? When it came down to it Draco had blown his chance, he could spend all year working to repair and patch up the deep wound he'd inflicted on potter, but even though it would never be the same. But the same as what, exactly? Of a friendship he hadn't ever had? One he'd never experienced? Perhaps they wouldn't be able to become as close as he'd originally hoped, but that did not mean that they way this unfolded in the end, how the stars shifted at the end of the year, wasn't meant to be.

Draco hadn't blown his chance, not yet. Draco was finally getting his chance; _this was_ his chance. Thus being so he wouldn't sit around moping over 'could have's', and 'would have's', and 'should have's.'

No Draco was going to make an effort! This was the beginning!

"What were you doing then?" Draco asked, examining his cuticles for lack of entertainment. Not that Draco wasn't curious to what Harry was getting up to, after all that's what his early Hogwarts years practically thrived on, pestering Potter, bugging Potter, getting Potter in trouble, sabotaging Potters plans, obsessing over Potter. Potter, Potter, Potter. Harry, Harry, Harry.

"None of your business." Harry responded casually, rather then rudely. Draco had to reason with himself that it truly wasn't any of his business, and that if Harry didn't want to tell him then it wasn't his business. Luckily his was spared having to respond when Madam Pomfrey bristled in, running through the doors with her working gown clenched in both hands to prevent her from tripping.

"So terribly sorry, boys," she apologized in her thick accent, "one of the younger ladies got a pleasant surprise this afternoon, had a little panic though…" she frowned, trailing off.

Draco and Harry glance awkwardly at each other, truly not wanting to her of another students… problem.

"Anyhow, get your book out, hurry now, we've only got a quart of an hour in these classes, and you two boys have got more knowledge to learn in these class then we have time for."

both boys pull out each individuals' books, though they were more like tomes, weighting heavily in their hands.

"Good, good, now read the first three chapters, I want you to bring a six-inch essay next class summarizing your books' chapters and pointing out the most important part of them. Now I expect to see lots of note taking and high lighting in your text books, I want you to deface them with questions you have, side notes, underlining, and scribbling out things that contradict other books if you find them incorrect. You must remember that whomever may have written theses book are experts but, and especially in your case Mr. Potter, their technique and opinions may not work for you, and that is okay. But if you do cross out information you that tastes sour to you, I fully expect you to make a note on the side saying why. And don't think you can worm your way out of this boys, at the end of each semester I'll be collecting your book, and it will go to wards you marks," she looked at them sternly, but like always, kindly, "understood?"

"Yes ma'am" came identical reply's.

"Good, now chop, chop! Save any question for next class, on Thursday." With that she turned on her high-top, black leather, pointed heels, heading into her office.

Draco watched Harry pull out a quill and two odd felt tipped quill.

Harry meet Draco's gaze, cocking his head to the side a little, he waved the vibrant pink highlighter in front of Draco's face.

"I'm assuming you don't have one of these, its more of a muggle thing, I've heard. But anyways, you highlight important information with its bright colours." Harry tossed the bright neon pink highlighter to Draco, smirking slightly at the flamboyant colour.

Draco narrowed his eye at Harry watching him snicker slightly at the bright pink quill, or highlighter, in his hand, "I wouldn't be laughing Potter, don't forget its your bright pink quill that I'm using."

Harrys smirk fell off his face.

* * *

(Hermione Granger)

"… but that's not even the coolest part!" Harry exclaimed pointing to a part in the text book spread out before Hermione.

The great hall was filled with buzzing students, each chatting away and stuffing there faces full of lunch. Hermione and Harry though were not talking about the latest drama or what had happened over the holidays, instead Harry was blabbing away about his first class with madam Pomfrey, or rather what he'd read in said time.

"Wait, wait, wait! So your telling me that your taking ancient ruins for this class because…?" Hermione asked, thinking she'd heard wrong.

"Well I wouldn't have to technically uses this technique but its an option… but anywho, I can carve these ruins," Harry pointed to a long string of sigils that crawled along the boarder of the page flashing invisible then bright read so the readers could see the usually sightless art. "and they allow me to connect to the persons' emotions, giving me a better understanding of how the feel, this way I can help them better." Harrys excitement was glowing through his eyes, "but this is just one of the many enchantment I can use! This book will just give me a brief glance of all the areas of magical counselling, enough to pass my exam and get my degree, but there's so much more, 'Mione! So, so much more! And its so exiting."

Hermione smiled despite the worry she felt. Though that ruin sounded great, and sounded like a useful way to understand a persons' emotions, such a spell would have a great strain on Harry. Not in a magical strain, no Harry could no doubt pull it off easily, it was the emotional strain he would feel. It was bad enough that he would have to listen to his client's pain, but to feel it… that was like having the depression or anxiety or whatever himself. That seemed like a lot to take on.

"Harry …" Hermione started only to be cut short when professor McGonagall came up behind her friend.

"Mr. Potter," Minerva McGonagall caught Harrys attention, Harry greeted her back just as formally, "as you know Quidditch season is around the corner and new team captains are being chosen…" she drifted off raising her eyebrows at Harry questioningly.

Hermione saw the realization on Harrys face, she new Harry understood what she was implying, McGonagall wanted Harry to be the Gryffindor team captain, but Hermione saw no excitement on Harrys face.

"Oh, um, thank you for the offer professor, but I think Ron would be a better choose," Ron, who had only started listening at the mention of Quidditch, choked on what ever he was stuffing his face with. Professor McGonagall looked equally shocked.

"But Mr. Potter this is you last year, surely you'd like to lead your team, after all you quite enjoyed it in your sixth year!" McGonagall insisted.

Harry just shook his head with a smile, "Once again thank you for the offer professor, but I'm very busy as you know, and I'm afraid I wont have enough time to organize the team, Ron on the other hand would do great, and I'd love to try out as seeker again."

McGonagall smiled too, "Very well, then. Mr. Weasley?" she inquired, gazing at the freckled face mess, eyes piercing.

"Uh, um, yeah, sure. I mean I would be honored." Ron stumbled his excitement barley consoled, "Professor." He added much too late.

"Wonderful. I expect a practice schedule for the Gryffindor team by Friday. Good day to you three, and Mr. Potter my office after your last class for your ancient ruins program." With a nod she turned and left.

"blimey, mate! Thanks a ton. I owe you after this one!" Ron laughed and ruffled Harrys hair, who scowled and patted his messy mop, trying futilely to flatten it.

Hermione smiled at the antics, shook he head and whispered, _"boys!"_

* * *

(Harry Potter)

The walls of Hogwarts were bathed in moon light, each crack of the stone wall casting a shadow. The occasional mouse scurried way, beware of a predator that stalked the halls.

Most students didn't dare walk the halls of Hogwarts at night, scared to hear the echoing screams of the past war, afraid to catch glimpses of the casualties lost in the war.

Of course no such nonsense would be seen in the ancient structure of Hogwarts, but students liked to talk, and so it became Hogwarts was haunted at night, well more haunted then Nearly Headless Nick.

But still a student paced the halls restlessly, invisible to all but the inner-eye. This student didn't believe in the ridiculous lies told by younger grades. No, Harry didn't need to be told about past screams echoing in Hogwarts at night, Harry new all about lingering tragedy's for they resided in his head.

Harry new what it was like to hear echoing screams at night because every time Harry closed his eye they greeted him good night.

It was getting better; his mind healing from the trauma the war had caused him.

Screams of others turned into Harrys scream when he woke up, and then the voices turned to distant whispers and Harrys calls turned to muttering, and soon his dreams where haunted by nothing but quick glimpses of horror.

Though that wasn't to say some nights Harrys past didn't haunt him, for it still did, and on nights like those- like these- Harry would distract himself.

Like taking a walk.

Harry trailed his invisible hand along the wall, feeling the rough stone grate against his finger tips, shredding the first surface of delicate skin.

Earlier that day Harry had meet with professor McGonagall in the headmasters' office, or should he say Head _mistresses_ office? Yes, McGonagall being the former deputy headmistress had taken up both positions head of house and headmistress, at least until she could find some one fit to take up her roll as Gryffindor's head of house.

Harry had picked up his textbook and assignment book, which would guide Harry through what he had to hand into the teachers by the end of the year. The course would be fairly easy, Harry would have to hand in all five assignments by term three, one assignment for each year.

Harry was excited, he really was. But he understood that learning ancient ruins would be a tedious process of memorizing. He would have to retrace his steps countless times to get a proper grasp on the subject, but Harry was up for it, he had to after all.

He'd have to be a slug this year; not in the sense of being slimly, slow and all in all gross. But in the sense that he'd keep himself mobile and paced.

But what Harry probably didn't anticipate was that he'd be walking right over the horrors of his past, retracing them once again.

At least, he didn't anticipate it the way he would retrace them this year.

* * *

 **AN; chappie four! How'd you guys like it?**

 **Okay so I know this chapter is ridiculously late, BUT I went to Alberta for a week, THEN when I got home my sister gave birth to a beautiful, precious baby girl. So theirs my late slip.**

 _(not so important stuff, just some fact about stuff in the fanfiction)_

 _Okay so the gross part about slug mucus is half true, were the magical part was obviously, and sadly, made up, that part about slug mucus being hygroscopic wasn't made up. Slug mucus is hygroscopic, which is the ability of a substance (in this case the mucus) to attract and hold water molecules from the surrounding environment. So there's your gross fun fact for the week._

 _Also about slugs. Slug Wisdom, which is the wisdom the life of a slug can give us, includes; importance of keeping yourself mobile, understanding the value of leaving a trail, ability to use slow movement to one advantage, etc. But slugs and snails are also seen in old lore and mythology, in carvings of stone, paintings on walls and a lot in old cults. Reason being is the snails shell is spiraled, and in many cultures the spiral means life and death, thus slugs and snails could be considered very,_ very _important._

 _Everything else about the herbs are genuinely true, while I might not tell you every thing about them, if it doesn't sound made up then its probably not. Calendula for example is really an herb that helps with infections and wounds, and it can be applied on the skin._

 **(important stuff)**

 **If you guys have any questions about the fanfiction, or you confused, maybe there's something not right about the story so far, please tell me, I'll try to clear it up.**

 **THANKS FOR ALL THE SUPPORT :D**

 **xxx**


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